


The Seven Stages Of Grief

by H_E_A_R_T_H



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Character studies, I don't think this counts as major character death???, I mean EVERYONE is dead but not really?? - Freeform, Tags Are Hard, Worldbuilding, basically everyone is a demon - Freeform, basically just expanding on why they're the way they are, dark and anti backstory - Freeform, loose plot, there is plot though you just have to squint a bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 05:28:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_E_A_R_T_H/pseuds/H_E_A_R_T_H
Summary: Being thrown into hell is a shock for everyone at first. Anti just has to get used to it, alongside his reluctant guide, Darkiplier. As the two get to know each other, they begin taking the saying "keep your enemies close" to heart.





	The Seven Stages Of Grief

My first memory is the frigid water against my skin, sucking away my body warmth and leaving me feeling empty and scared. It's dark, and I'm unable to figure out which way is up or down. I begin swimming in one general direction, hoping it'd take me somewhere. I cut through the water like a knife, there's no traction whatsoever, it's as if it's air.

Breaking the surface isn't reassuring, more so filling me with dread. Around me is just as dark, and the water carries on for miles. I wonder if I should just stop swimming, if it'd be better to let myself fall back down to where I was. Maybe searching for land would just be a huge waste of time.

"Hey!" I contemplated ignoring the voice, but I hear the word carrying on, and I let myself turn around in the murky water. Miles away, small and unnoticeable, is a man on a thin expanse of white sand. He waits for me, I know he's watching me treading in the water. I take my time coming to him, albeit not wanting to in the first place.

I drag myself out of the water, feeling as though I'm tearing myself out of glue. It's only when I look at the water hitting the sand that the water isn't in fact water, it's pure black, maybe oil, although it doesn't have a scent. And the sand itself, pristine white, couldn't be sand. I suspect salt.

"There is no possible way you could have swum slower." I look up at the man from my place in the sand. He's dressed in a suit, hair slicked back, looking much too formal to be standing on a beach of all places. "You're even slow at standing."

I lay on the ground a moment longer, challenging him. His eyes are completely black, narrowed, staring back easily. "Who are you?" My throat feels raw, unnatural. The man only tilts his head at me, returning my stare. I quickly realize I'm not going to win this small battle of wits, rising to my feet.

"It looks like I've gotten a smart one, then." He comments, clapping his hands together once. "You're slow, small, but smart. Not very helpful, but at least you're not just a lump of flesh. Very close to one, but not _quite_."

The man's words have the same effect as a knife to the chest. "Watch it!" I exclaim immediately, surging forwards with my shoulders squared. The man doesn't move back, lips turning up in an intrigued smile. When I meet him, I'm suddenly at a loss for words. His eyes are rimmed with black makeup, making his gaze look even more intense glued onto me.

The man pats my shoulder, less reassuring and more taunting. "Maybe you aren't as smart as I thought." His comment surges a fire within me, but again, I only express it through a hard glare. "If you'd really like to know oh so badly, I'm referred to as Darkiplier." He tilts his head, and a surge of darkness presses behind him. As I blink, it leaves, and I wonder if it truly happened. "What name will you come up with, small one?"

I completely skip over the degrading nickname. "What? I hiss with my eyebrows raised, "What the hell is going on?"

"You were just given new life," Darkiplier's already exasperated with me, rolling his shoulders in irritation and scoffing. "Once you emerge from the Styx, you rename yourself."

"The Styx?" I can't recall much, I realize. I don't know anything distinctive, no memories, nothing. My memories are completely cleared, leaving a blank slate. "What... I... Who, no, _where_ is Felix?"

Darkiplier blinks at me in astonishment. "You've remembered something in your past life, that's quite rare." He claps twice, and I realize he's being sarcastic. "Felix is wherever you left them. _You_ are the one who's gone." Darkiplier gestures around us, but there's only sand and the Styx. "This is it. Now, come up with a name, and we'll be able to move on with... this."

I remember Felix. I don't remember him completely, he only comes through in bits and pieces. I remember a loud man, worrying and exciteable all the same, but enjoyable. I liked Felix, flaws and all. I feel comfortable saying I remember more of him than myself. I remember he liked blue, I can't quite remember my favourite colour. 

"Choose a name." Darkiplier commands me more forcefully, "Time doesn't grow on trees here, believe it or not. We need to continue."

"Where are we?" I practically snarl, "What do you want with me?"

"Those are... better questions. Not very good, but better." Darkiplier does that smile, the one I saw earlier. I can't quite place if it's amusement or approval. "We're in hell, small one." The words flow out as simply as commenting on the weather. "After death, people are paired up with others that they used to know in their former lives. Think of it as an endless, torturing epilogue that none of the readers asked for."

"I was a good person." I shoot back quickly, anger bubbling inside of me and threatening to spill out. Except, I'm not sure how to properly express it, because I know the man before me isn't necessarily weak. If I let my feelings spill out, it'll backlash, I know it. "I deserve better, I know that much!"

"That's what they all say," Darkiplier pinches the bridge of his nose, "Just choose your name, we've got places to be."

"We're dead!" I shriek back, "Where could we possibly have to be? We're dead, and there is nothin' we can do about it!"

"Anti," Darkiplier breaths out, feeling content with his creativity. "If you're so determined to be human again - which is impossible, by the way - then we'll call you Anti. Like, an Anti demon."

I blink several times, then my mouth turns to a snarl. "I am not throwing away my name!"

"Which is..." Darkiplier gestures for me to continue, continuing when he's met with silence. "That's what I thought. Remember what your name was, then I'll call you by it. Until then, Anti it is. Unless you have anything better, that is."

Darkiplier feigns a look of expectancy, though I turn my gaze away from him stubbornly. "You said we had somewhere we needed to be?"


End file.
